


any way you cut it

by Fluffifullness



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Canon Divergence, Coming Out, Durarara!! Kink Meme, Foe Yay, M/M, Mild Language, Pre-Canon, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-11
Updated: 2013-11-11
Packaged: 2018-01-01 04:14:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1040218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fluffifullness/pseuds/Fluffifullness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shizuo holds his fists rigid at his sides and focuses on drawing short, even breaths. He feels hot, but now it’s not completely anger and it’s not completely embarrassment – just something in between, something that wants to prove itself just as desperately as it wants to hide.</p><p>“How long’re you gonna keep making jokes about that, asshole?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	any way you cut it

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to [this request](http://drrrkink.livejournal.com/6253.html?thread=22579821#t22579821) and cross-posted to [this thread on the part 11 overflow](http://drrrkink.livejournal.com/7382.html?thread=25292246#t25292246).

There’s a cheap burger place just a few blocks up from Raijin High. The food’s decent and there’s enough space there to accommodate a pretty good number of students – which means anonymity, the voices at one table mostly drowned out by the ones in a neighboring booth, reason number one that Shizuo suggests a trip down there after school.

It’s nothing big, he tells them – ‘them’ being Kadota and Shinra, probably the only two people, his brother aside, that really count as anything like friends – and he comes up with some weak justification about graduation coming up kinda soon and just _why not?_

He’s brought it up with Celty already. He doesn’t know her that well, really, but he can’t help placing a weird sort of trust in her; he’s relied on her advice a couple of other times, too, but this must be the most important one by far. He wasn’t gonna do anything until he knew what she thought, and now that he does know he’s sure that she won’t have said anything to Shinra.

Well – anything save for clumsily-phrased questions, maybe. If it’s that, he won’t hold it against her. She’s not like a lot of other people – like him – and he gets that she’s not always great at socializing.

He _definitely_ gets it.

He can’t stop fidgeting in line – rolling onto the balls of his feet and then back to his heels, a repeating pattern of nervous sighs and darting eyes. He doesn’t doubt for a second that Shinra and Kadota can both tell something’s up, but he has to hope that he’s not getting on their nerves too much.

When Shinra turns back to him to ask what he wants to order, he freezes and stares and chews at his bottom lip for what could easily be a minute straight. ‘S not like he was planning on coming here to actually eat, so the question catches him stupidly off guard.

“S-strawberry milkshake,” he mumbles at last. “That’s all.”

“Hmmm? Weren’t you the one who wanted to come here, though? And you’re not actually hungry?”

“Not much,” Shizuo grunts, hand extended with a few hundred yen and some change to pay for it. “Gotta problem?”

Kadota sighs. Shinra just shakes his head perplexedly.

They find a table and take seats across from each other at it. Kadota and Shinra carry on their own conversation – pretty one-sided, actually, ‘cause Shinra’s knee-deep in one of those moods that tend to keep him from ever _not_ talking about Celty – but Shizuo’s even less a part of the conversation than a bored-looking Kadota, completely silent almost to the point of seeming like he’s sulking about something. He doesn’t blame his friends for not going out of their way to include him – actually, he’s glad. He’s gotta work up to it on his own.

When the conversation suddenly veers away from Celty and off on a tangent that inevitably leads to a certain knife-brandishing flea, Shizuo finds that he can’t still maintain his silence – or, well, more that it’s the perfect opportunity.

He shouldn’t let it pass him by.

“A-about Izaya,” he begins suddenly, and then he reconsiders, wilts defeatedly back into the hard metal chair.

Hesitates. Again.

“Er, well – no, actually, it’s not about him…” He’s mumbling, now, staring resolutely down at his hands on the table in front of him. “I just – I have something. To. Ah, say.”

“Shizuo-kun?”

“I –” He licks his lips deliberately. “I kind of – j-just a little – uh –”

“Relax a minute,” Kadota interrupts patiently, one eyebrow raised quizzically at his classmate. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

Shizuo squeezes his eyes shut and rocks uncomfortably in his seat. Kadota’s right; his cheeks are so hot they feel cold, and actually it’s not even _just_ his cheeks. He’s gotta be tomato-red all the way down to the top of his chest. His stomach is tying itself in knots – the milkshake from before is sitting, untouched, in front of him – and he’s not exactly sure that he won’t throw up before he manages to get the words out.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, eyes stinging. “I – I guess I wanna ask something first.”

“About Izaya-kun?” Shinra guesses, mouth quirking up at the corners – an inquisitive little grin. “I’m willing to tell you all of his dirty secrets if you can promise to make sure he doesn’t try to kill me later.”

Shizuo frowns at his balled-up fists. “No, it’s not about him,” he repeats.

“Medical advice?”

“Let him talk,” Kadota intervenes. “And don’t stress,” he adds, eyeing Shizuo with an expression that’s dangerously close to toeing the line between amused and concerned.

“How do you” – Shizuo swallows thickly – “feel about guys who l-like –”

He stops, realizing for the hundredth time now exactly what it is that he’s about to say. And that he’s already said way too much to just take it all back. He curses silently to himself as the stinging in his eyes worsens; he can feel his last semblance of normal life slipping straight through his fingers, and it scares him almost more than the hurdle that is speaking his mind.

“Oh,” Shinra realizes. “Shizuo-kun, are you –?”

“D-d-don’t,” Shizuo chokes. “Just _don’t_.”

He barely notices Kadota’s eyes go wide as he watches from the corners of his own. He’s so _frustrated_ ; he desperately wants to run out on them now, but that’s not gonna fix anything, and he knows it.

It’s just – really, _really_ hard to resist the urge to at least overturn the table with its platefuls of food and too-sweet strawberry drink.

“Feeling okay?”

“No,” he growls. “I’m not fucking _okay._ ”

“I can see that,” Shinra interjects wryly, looking Shizuo up and down with a half-sympathetic smile. The air surrounding the three of them is thick, but Shizuo cynically judges that it’s not quite thick enough to smother himself with.

“Answer the question,” he all but whispers.

“‘Guys who like other guys,’ is that it?” Kadota wonders, flushing noticeably, himself, despite the way he tries to offset it by propping his chin up on the palm of his hand, elbow on the table. “Should I pretend that this is hypothetical?”

Shizuo stills, eyes frozen wide, and then shakes his head stiffly – once, twice, and that’s all he can manage.

Kadota and Shinra exchange a look.

“It’s weird,” Shinra decides, and Shizuo flinches visibly at that. He’s really sure now that he’s gonna have to vomit; he’s never felt this bad before, not even when it was just plain anger and violence and not all of the other things, the complicated ones – the ones he’s been choosing to ignore for so long.

Kadota shakes his head. “I honestly don’t know, Shizuo. Maybe in America or something, but –”

“W-wait,” Shizuo stammers. “I – I know. And – ah – I’m sorry for bringing it up.”

_Never mind, just never mind – can’t we drop it now before it gets any worse –?_

Shinra looks surprised. “Don’t be. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s still weird, but it also is what it is, Shizuo-kun, and you’re not even the first one around here to broach the subject.”

“I’m – what?”

“Not the first,” Shinra repeats with one of his _I-know-something-you-don’t_ grins.

“He’s talking about Izaya,” Kadota explains impatiently. “Who else but that guy?”

Something swells painfully in Shizuo’s chest. “Izaya’s – th-that flea is…?”

“Bisexual,” Shinra chimes. “And you’re what, Shizuo-kun? Totally gay? Don’t tell me you like Izaya-kun _that_ way –”

Shizuo cuts his friend’s cheerful tirade short with little more than a startled yelp. He’s shaking all over and blushing too hard, but he tries to ignore it, anyway – clears his throat and presses the palm of his hand to the back of his neck and laughs shakily. “No – no way…”

Kadota stares hard at him. “I don’t get it,” he mutters. “Thought you hated the guy?”

“I do!”

“That’s not how you started this conversation,” Shinra laughs – and then, seeing what must be total mortification on Shizuo’s face, he nods and shrugs as though he were deep in thought. “Don’t worry, we won’t tell him anything about this.”

“Really? And here I thought that’d only be fair,” a voice teases cheerily from behind Shizuo. The look on Shinra’s face confirms what the blonde immediately yearns to deny – the light pressure of a slight body nudging his shoulder, the flash of red and black and pale skin and that obvious flea smell – the coy brush of lips quirking up in a smile just millimeters away from Shizuo’s ear, his neck. “Given that you’ve already told Shizu-chan and Dotachin here all about me.”

The crash of Shizuo’s chair being overturned is way louder than it should be. There aren’t many people in the restaurant – it’s been close to an hour since the end of the school day, so most of them are done and gone already – but the few who _are_ hanging around abandon their own conversations to turn, startled, in the direction of the sudden disturbance. Izaya immediately glides back a foot or two, smirking cheerfully at the blonde even as he throws a heavy, too-slow punch at him; the informant dodges it easily.

“What’s the matter, Shizu-chan? Weren’t you supposed to be coming out of the closet, anyway?”

Shizuo makes another grab at Izaya; this time, the flea doesn’t try to get away, and Shizuo winds up with a fistful of his rival’s T-shirt and a perfect chance to work off some stress. Pulls him close and just about manages to connect his fist with the bastard’s face when Shinra decides to interrupt, “Shizuo-kun, wait – not here. If you’re planning on beating him to death, at least do it outside.”

Izaya laughs and raises a skeptical eyebrow at Shinra. “That’s awful, you know? There’s nothing keeping me from visiting a place like this every once in a while. I can’t help it if Shizu-chan wants to spill all his secrets in broad daylight.”

“You were fucking _eavesdropping,_ bastard!”

“Shizuo-kun,” Shinra repeats, hands raised pacifyingly – feels patronizing, too, though, so Shizuo only turns his glare on Shinra and refuses to move. He can feel Izaya’s eyes on him even then – driving him a weird kind of crazy.

“He’d have found out eventually, either way,” Kadota interjects. “You’d just be giving him what he wants if you let it get the better of you right now.”

“I hadn’t realized I wanted my jaw unhinged,” Izaya chuckled. “I wonder, though, would Shizu-chan feel guilty about that?”

“Why the fuck would I –?”

“Because you like me, right?”

When Shizuo can’t collect his thoughts to respond quickly enough, Izaya laughs and raises his hand to the hot flush of the blonde’s cheeks. There are tears pricking in his eyes, his whole body shaking with the effort of suppressing them. “Did you want me to touch you like this, then…?”

“Knock it off, Izaya.” That’s Kadota. He’s standing off to Shizuo’s left, now; the blonde can see him from the corner of his eye. “That was just Shinra being an ass. No one actually agreed that –”

“Shut up,” Shizuo snaps before he can stop himself. “You don’t fucking know what I – ah.”

“Oh?”

“That’s not what – wait –”

Izaya grins. “I’m flattered, Shizu-chan.”

“Wait,” Shizuo rasps again. “It’s not like that.”

And suddenly Shinra’s standing on his other side, his fingers light on the sleeve of Shizuo’s uniform. Doesn’t seem like he’s feeling all that urgent, but Shizuo more or less knows better; he’s seconds away from letting his anger go completely unchecked, blood and bruises and probably a quick trip to a holding cell at the police station.

 _That’s_ what Izaya wants.

“Let go,” he hears and, fingers stiff, he does. Izaya half loses his balance, standing there, but then he’s completely fine again. He’s leaning close and his fingers are brushing Shizuo’s face and the tears are dangerously close to spilling all the way over.

“Get lost,” he growls. “Just fucking leave.”

“Why don’t _you_ just leave, Shizu-chan?”

“We could,” Kadota sighs. “Just for now,” he suggests, fully facing Shizuo now. “Okay?”

“Okay?” Izaya echoes. “Unless you’d rather stick around with me. I’ll even let you call it a date.”

His stomach throbs painfully at that, but he swallows thickly and manages to keep it – and himself – under control. “Yeah,” he whispers, voice thready. “It’s – let’s go.”

He manages to make it outside on his own somehow –

“Don’t you want your shake?” Kadota wonders.

“No,” he refuses, nausea tingling in the back of his throat. “I’m not hungry.”

– but his legs give out just as soon as he’s sure that Izaya won’t see it happen, two or three stores down and a wide alleyway opening up on his left side. Shards of glass and gravel dig at his knees through the fabric of his pants, but to Shizuo the pain’s good – grounds him, helps him swallow back the knife-sharp pain of a sob despite the tears already pulsing down his cheeks.

“Shizuo – hey,” Kadota says, sounding urgent. “Come on. If you need to rest, you can do it in the nurse’s office.”

“F-feel sick,” Shizuo groans. “I – I –” He doubles over, hands going to his stomach, and gags. “G-gah…”

“Shinra,” he hears. Anxious. Confused. “What…?”

Shinra cuts in quickly, but his voice is gentle and his hand on Shizuo’s back seems steady enough. “Relax and let it out, Shizuo-kun. It’s probably just nerves.”

Shizuo screws his eyes shut tight as his stomach takes immediate heed of that probably unnecessary advice; his fingers scratch desperately at the cool pavement, but that doesn’t help anything. He winds up choking and heaving onto the ground in front of him until there’s nothing left to lose, and then he breathes heavily for another few beats of painful silence – can’t quite get it together, anyway, but he does his best.

“Alright?”

“M-mostly,” he pants. “Sorry.”

Kadota offers him a hand up; he hesitates only briefly before accepting it. His head’s spinning and his eyes still sting, but he’s not exactly crying anymore. He’s too weirdly exhausted to do anything like that.

“What I said before,” Kadota sighs. “I didn’t mean that I can’t get over your orientation, or whatever. It doesn’t change anything with me, but I wanted to say that you should remember what most people are likely to think of it.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and frowns. “I’d tell you to be careful who you tell, but I guess that’s kinda hard now.”

Shizuo blinks once, twice, and then he reaches up with the back of his hand to swipe at his mouth and eyes. “That was my fault,” he mumbles. “Shoulda known.”

“Like you could’ve,” Kadota scoffs.

“Izaya-kun’s hard to predict,” Shinra agrees. “And you probably wanted to get that over with, anyway, right?”

Shizuo shrugs and shuffles his weight uncomfortably for a moment. “Not like that. I just – it was only supposed to be you two for a while.”

“Why us?” Kadota wonders, and Shizuo stiffens instantly.

“Oh. Um. I think it’s – it’s important to know, right? Uh” – he clears his throat, tastes the sour tang of vomit and tries not to gag – “whether or not your friends approve at all. So, I – I just thought I had to hope for the best. ‘Cause it’d be too hard otherwise…”

Shinra stifles a laugh. “You didn’t think we’d disown you for something like that, did you?”

“No!” Shizuo retorts, instantly defensive. “Just that maybe things’d get weird. Ah – um, also, I was gonna mention –”

“Save it,” Kadota sighs. “You didn’t say it, after all, but it’s pretty obvious. Just friends. Don’t worry about it. I don’t have a crush on every girl I lay eyes on, right?”

“And my heart belongs only to Celty – ow, Shizuo-kun – h-hey –!”

“Shut up,” Shizuo mutters, finally letting go of Shinra’s arm – and smiling, first wide-eyed and then hiding the reflexive grin behind the palm of his hand. He turns so that his back is to the other two, slouches a little and takes a deep breath. Relaxes.

“Thanks,” he finally says. “That’s… I guess that’s all I wanted to hear.”

 

**~~*~~**

 

_Meet me after school._

Shizuo’s got Izaya’s number entered into the address book on his phone, courtesy of Shinra and his own stupid justifications about wanting to have a way to chew the bastard out – just in case he ever tried anything really bad, like putting Kasuka in harm’s way or getting Shinra, Celty, Kadota – anyone Shizuo knows, really – into trouble –

– or what if Izaya prank called him or something –

– and he couldn’t stand the idea of that louse having his number as long as the reverse wasn’t also true, and what if he ever actually needed to rely on the flea’s help – god forbid – but if it were for Kasuka’s sake, he’d definitely go to Izaya even if it meant lowering himself to that bastard’s level.

The number’s been there for months now, and he’s never once benefitted from having it.

It really bothered him for a while – just at first. His face would heat up every time he so much as glanced at his cell, and then his stomach’d start hurting and sometimes he’d get so nervous, it’d be like drowning. It should’ve been just irritation or anger or something like that, but the really funny thing is that he always knew it _wasn’t_ – and that it was the same kind of ‘not-what-it-should-be’ he’d been feeling near-constantly for years already.

Now, too.

He used to keep his phone locked – what if he accidentally pocket-dialed Izaya or something? – but one thing eventually led to another and a resolution and now he doesn’t and he has two friends, at least, who know and don’t care.

And now there’s a message here with Izaya’s name on it.

It’s probably a prank, after all, but he keeps fooling himself; he does exactly what the message says to do.

“I wondered if you’d know where to go,” Izaya chuckles when he sees the blonde – breathless, red-in-the-face mortified by nothing any more complicated than Izaya’s eyes on him. “But I guess that brain of yours is good for something, after all, Shizu-chan – or did your passionate love for me draw you here? I wonder…”

Shizuo holds his fists rigid at his sides and focuses on drawing short, even breaths. He feels hot, but now it’s not completely anger and it’s not completely embarrassment – just something in between, something that wants to prove itself just as desperately as it wants to hide.

“How long’re you gonna keep making jokes about that, asshole?”

“Until I know how serious you are, maybe?”

They stare at each other until Shizuo can’t hold still anymore – not long, really, but it’s the best he can do with his heart pumping his face and neck and chest full of blood and disorientation, his stomach hurting the way it always hurts when it’s just about time to beat it all back with a solid helping of literally violent denial.

“I’m leaving,” he chokes, making a half-hearted move to turn his back on the informant.

“Is this the part where I stop you and confess on the spot, Shizu-chan?”

Shizuo stiffens. “It’s the part where you stop going out of your way to make my life harder than it has to be.”

“And if I told you that I do actually have a reason for teasing you?”

“If you don’t mean it,” Shizuo growls, “I don’t wanna hear it.”

“And who ever said the reason is that I like you?”

Shizuo snaps, turns on him fast, barely misses and stands, panting and glaring, just a meter or so away. Izaya’s holding his knife and laughing, but Shizuo can’t hear the high sound and he can’t see the gleam of the blade. The scar on his chest throbs for just a moment, and he remembers – and that’s what he sees and hears, that first meeting from he doesn’t exactly know how many months ago, the sting of the cut and how _different_ it had been with Izaya.

He’d been strong and as awful as – no, even worse than what Shinra had introduced him as, but so unbreakable and fast and that was _frustrating._

It was the first time Shizuo had ever been that frustrated by one guy, one person. He’d never gone all out before then. He’d never been seriously hurt by anyone but himself, never failed to win in a fight. And it was probably the first fight – save for Izaya’s many vicarious ones in the weeks leading up to their meeting – that Shizuo hadn’t started himself.

“Kinda nostalgic, isn’t it?” Izaya says, shrugging as he lowers the switchblade to his side.

“Not really,” Shizuo mutters.

“Hm?”

“It’s not. People only say crap like that when they’re talking about good memories.”

Izaya looks surprised, but only briefly before he bursts out laughing. “How’s that work, Shizu-chan? Shouldn’t you be happy you met me?”

“Why would I be?!”

“Because –”

“Because I – I actually really – really like you, right?” Shizuo tries hard and fails miserably at saying it without stumbling over the words as his face heats up more – impossible, but there it is. What was supposed to’ve come out sounding like a smooth interruption winds up less _that,_ more clumsy and stupid.

Like an honest confession.

Much to Shizuo’s combined surprise and relief, though, Izaya’s amused grin doesn’t widen or become something cruel. It softens, turns gentle and _kind,_ almost, and he steps just a bit closer to the blonde.

“Is that so,” he purrs. “Then, Shizu-chan –”

“Shizuo.”

“Shizu-chan,” Izaya insists. “Why does it always end badly between us?”

“It’s always your fault,” Shizuo huffs – then, seeing Izaya’s scornfully raised eyebrow – “well, most of the time. You’re doing it now, anyway, so don’t give me that stupid look!”

“I’m just talking,” Izaya pouts. “I can’t help it if Shizu-chan always takes everything the wrong way.”

“Doesn’t matter how you look at it,” Shizuo argues, “it’s definitely teasing!”

“But I already told you: I have a reason for doing it.”

 _“What?”_ Shizuo hisses, totally exasperated.

“Well,” Izaya hems, “at first it was because Shizu-chan was just troublesome, but it did get interesting in its own right pretty quickly. You’re not smart at all, so I guess you only noticed me because of animal instincts or something like that – bad luck,” Izaya sighs, “but it was a nice excuse to meet you in person. Here,” and his gaze flickers up to lock pointedly with Shizuo’s.

“Get to the point,” Shizuo mutters, more to fill the momentary silence than to satisfy his morbid curiosity.

“There’s something endearing about an angry Shizu-chan,” Izaya says, repeating his earlier shrugging motion. “Or maybe ‘cute’ would be a better word for it; Shizu-chan’s cute.”

Shizuo’s hand flies straight to his mouth; feels like his knees are gonna give out under him.

“C-c-c – ah –”

“It’s just a word,” Izaya grins. “You’re just like a twelve-year-old, Shizu-chan. If you always make a big deal of little things like this, you’ll never be able to scare away all those small-time thugs looking for a fight.”

“I – I wouldn’t have to if you wouldn’t send ‘em after me all the time!”

“But it helps, too, doesn’t it? Unlike you, I’m fine the way I am, but how willing are people to accept really masculine guys like you as being into other men?”

Shizuo lowers his gaze. “I know all that…” And it has nothing to do with what they were just talking about – reluctantly, maybe, he’s a little disappointed. And hurt and pissed off and frustrated, mostly because he’s already had enough of knowing.

Why can’t it make no difference? Why can’t he be normal in at least one way?

Why can’t he be as aloof as Izaya?

“If you were a little more effeminate, maybe,” Izaya continues, flashing another inappropriate grin, “or if this were someplace like America – like Dotachin said – maybe. But you still need that scary exterior to warn people off, don’t you?” Seeing Shizuo’s bewildered look, he explains, “Shinra told me.”

A beat of silence.

“And, well,” Izaya decides to add, “any other kind of personality’s probably impossible for you, anyway…”

“How does that –”

Izaya’s close, now, and he presses closer, arms hidden – held childishly to his back – as he skirts the blonde to take up a position behind him; his hands as he suddenly presses them to the broad curve of Shizuo’s shoulders feel warm even through the fabric of his uniform.

“Just don’t change, Shizu-chan. Keep scaring people away and messing up and whatever else you can’t help doing; that’s better for me, anyway.”

“D-don’t touch –”

“I’ll accept you no matter what, you know.”

“No – what?”

“No matter what,” Izaya echoes.

Shizuo shakes his head in an attempt to clear it. “I told you not to say it if you don’t mean it.”

“Then what would you say the logical conclusion here is, Shizu-chan?”

Shizuo breathes slowly in and out; his head’s starting to hurt almost as bad as his stomach.

“That you mean it.”

He finds that it hurts less, putting it all out there at once, quick and terribly brief. He’s ready for Izaya to laugh it off, claim he was joking, that he really had you going, though, Shizu-chan, and hopefully you can figure it all out on your own later – really, he just wants to go home and puke up a lung and sleep until tomorrow never comes.

He hates this.

Izaya’s hands disappear from Shizuo’s shoulders, leaving him free for a moment to take another deep breath.

And then he’s being tugged back again, into a hug with Izaya’s arms around his waist. His chin on Shizuo’s shoulder.

“How about it, Shizu-chan?”


End file.
